City of Wailing Hearts
by VixenOnFire
Summary: Betrayed by Alec and thoroughly heartbroken, Magnus flees New York City, vowing never again to aid the Clave in their ridiculous war. But it's only a matter of time until someone comes knocking on his front door again. Fueled by pain and anger, his allegiance may cost him more than his own life. Post CoLs.
1. Chapter 1: Betrayal Most Foul

**A/N:** This is a story that takes place after CoLS. It's mostly Malec-based, but the rest of the characters are here as well. No copyright infringement is intended. This story has not been run through a beta, so I apologize for any errors. As always, all the characters are property of Cassandra Clare.

**Warnings:** This story is rated M for later chapters. Contains mature content.

* * *

**Chapter One—Betrayal Most Foul**

There was a slight chill to the wind that Magnus hadn't noticed before. Even as he stepped onto the darkened streets of Manhattan, he wasn't prepared for the icy blast that stemmed more from Alec's absence than the actual November weather. He felt empty inside, as if the injury he'd suffered by Amatis's hand had split wide open, leaving his innards vulnerable to the elements. But that wound was healing while another slashed him from the inside out.

Magnus ducked his head as he passed by two Mundanes bound for the subway. The specific station he'd left to his heels held nothing more than a Shadowhunter and the scent of death. They would be either disappointed to discover the lack of transit, or unfortunate enough to run across Camille. Either way, Magnus didn't care. He was through with pesky emotions that sought to tear him apart.

He wondered for a moment whether or not Alec suffered as he did. Would his Shadowhunter feel this loss? Would he feel that instant split resonating through his chest as Magnus did now? There had been a time when Magnus believed Alec loved him, but that time had passed the moment he had received Camille's letter.

Anger had risen in him then—anger towards Camille, anger towards Alec, and more importantly, anger towards himself. If he had been more forthcoming about his past, perhaps Alec would not have seen fit to seek out the likes of Camille. But his ex-boyfriend had no right to meddle with his life. A person's life was their own to command, and one could not hold it in the palm of their hand without acting as God. Although the thought of God giving a damn about him made Magnus chuckle under his breath, it was a vacant laughter that sounded hollow and surprisingly alarmed him. He had felt loss before, but never on such a grandiose scale as this. The world without Alec Lightwood was already turning out to be a bleak place indeed.

Magnus plodded on down the cracked pavement, doing his best to subdue the past few minutes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his depressing, plain denim jeans, cursing under his breath as he dipped into the familiar alley. Even the fabric seemed dull to his cat-like eyes, as if his usual compulsive desire for all things shiny had lost its luster. He hadn't bothered to use a portal, wash his face, or run a brush through his hair; he'd simply followed Alec to the abandoned subway station just as Camille had instructed.

Lover turned enemy, Camille was as cunning as they came. Long ago, in Victorian London, Magnus believed Camille's affections to be honest and pure. He'd loved her for a brief period, and had thought she'd returned that adoration. But she'd loved him as one might love a disposable pet—keeping him close for comfort, but discarding him the moment she grew weary. How Alec had ended up forging an alliance with the vampire was beyond Magnus's comprehension. It didn't matter if Alec had no intentions of going through with the deal; the simple fact that he'd thought about it at _all_ was enough.

Camille was as deadly as she was beautiful, her still heart like poison to the soul. Her greed and vanity consumed her, washing away any lingering effects of humanity. There was nothing _human_ about someone who would willingly cut short the life of another in exchange for power.

Realizing he was thinking more of Alec than Camille, Magnus quickly dismissed the thought from his mind. Alec—_his_ Alec—would have _never_ entertained the idea of removing his immortality. What had happened to the boy he knew and loved? Alec had been distant from Magnus for weeks, and although he knew it had something to do with Jace, it didn't give Alec the right to sneak around behind his back. Lies were one thing, but Alec had been prepared to cut Magnus's life short all for the sake of jealousy. Magnus could live forever, whereas the Shadowhunter would perish. Whether it was in a battle as Magnus feared, or in his bed as an old man, the chilling reality was that Alec Lightwood wouldn't live forever.

It made no difference to Magnus now, or at least that was what he told himself. The mantra of "it's over, it's over, it's over," constantly thumped inside of his head, though he hadn't spoken the words aloud since leaving the subway. He had said it twice already to Alec's face; he could not bring himself to do it again.

Dwelling on the past had never been Magnus's strongest suit. It only dredged up memories best left to the ether. Memories brought pain, and pain led to weakness. If he was to distance himself from the Shadow World, he would need all of his strength. And even that was compromised thanks largely to the slow-healing wound embedded into his ribs. Alec's energy combined with rest had enabled Magnus to venture outside of his home, but the effects of his anger wore greatly on those reserves. It wouldn't be long before that strength gave out completely.

He rounded the alleyway filled with clutter, a single bulb shining dimly above the door. Everything looked as he had left it, but tonight he returned alone. There would be no warm body next to him in the morning, and no one fuss over like he enjoyed. All of that was fragile memory in the back of his mind now, something that pained him more than he thought it would. When the sun broke through the clouds at dawn, he would feel no peace or sunshine. Alec's betrayal had taken that warmth clean out of whatever soul he had left.

He padded up the stairs and kicked open the heavy door, adding to the splinters left behind from Jocelyn's hasty exit a few days prior. Chairman Meow scurried across the hardwood floor and took refuge under a plush, velvet couch next to the empty fireplace. Even he knew better than to get in his master's way when he was in a mood. Magnus ignored the cat and cursed once more.

Everything smelled like Alec, of sandalwood and boy. On the counter sat Alec's black jacket—the one that Magnus thought made him look too drab, too ordinary. He hated that jacket now more than ever. Somewhere in the house a toothbrush and some clothes rested in a single drawer. Magnus knew Alec would return for his belongings, and he had no intentions of sticking around for that moment. He'd almost changed his mind about Alec in the subway; he couldn't afford for that to happen again.

Charred marks on the floor left behind from the pentagram mocked his every step. He'd gone above and beyond the call of duty where Alec was concerned, and yet that boy had tossed him to the night children at the first opportunity. He was prepared to cut Magnus's life short and hadn't even bothered to tell him. Forgiveness was divine, but not even Magnus could forgive this. He'd worn his heart on his sleeve only to have it thrown back in his face.

No, forgiveness was not an option.

"We're leaving," Magnus said to the frightened cat.

Blue sparks shot out from his fingertips, crackling and hissing as the room began to change. He could transform anything he wished, and this house was no exception. He refused to be a captive in his own home. The memory of Alec, of his kisses and warm breath, was too much to handle. Alec was meant to be his forever; he would have gladly given up his immortality for the boy if only he had asked. That was how much Alec had meant to him. Now he saw the error of his ways. Immortality was _his_ burden to bear, and the Shadowhunter would have to find solace with someone else. A betrayal of this magnitude was just the kick Magnus needed to see the truth—he was not part of this world, and could never be the man Alec wanted.

Twisting, merging, and folding in like the corners of a cardboard box, the room shifted from the spacious Victorian manor with three spare bedrooms to a disheveled warehouse. Magnus's rage and sadness unleashed on the room, throwing chairs, tables, and clothes against the walls. As was his mind, the room became a mess of confusing, impenetrable passageways of anger. Slivers of wood danced above his head; the swirling debris shredded the remainder of the once beautiful, ever-changing home.

He felt the power of his demon genes coursing through his veins, fueling the destruction. Strolling into his bedroom, he spared only those items he wished to keep—a few mementos of his past, the snuffbox, Will's letter, his books and other magical items, and a handful of outfits he rather liked. The rest of it went up in blue flames, returning the forsaken memories of Alec Lightwood back into the darkness.

He dumped Alec's personal items into a singed box and hurled it to the top of the stairs where it landed with a thunderous clank. The picture of his Shadowhunter love that had always sat beside the bed rose up above the flames. The frame shattered into a million pieces of tainted glass when he squeezed his hands around it. Magnus cursed again as the photograph ripped in half, then in thirds, and fell to the ground at his feet. A pair of deep blue eyes stared up at him from the floor. He quickly turned on his heel, unable to take the pain.

It no longer smelled of Alec, only the scent of burnt ash hung in the air.

Chairman Meow yelped from the living room as his shelter lifted up and exploded near the ceiling. But as if he was used to Magnus's temper, he quickly adjusted to the outburst and stretched out his limbs on the cluttered floor.

"Come, my friend," Magnus said, scooping his companion into his shaking arms. The magic drained from his fingertips, taking his strength along with it. The cat grumbled, causing Magnus to chuckle lowly. "Do not worry. It will all be as we left it once we return to England."

This seemed to placate the feline, who snuggled into the crook of Magnus's neck and let out a sleepy howl as the pair entered through a portal that would take them to the other side of the world and away from the memory of Alec Lightwood.


	2. Chapter 2: The Ginger Cafe

**Chapter Two—The Ginger Café**

London had not been as fortuitous as he had hoped; too many people had known him there. He had a history with the Shadowhunters of the London Institute, and it hadn't taken them very long to figure out that he was back. So he'd moved on, abandoning his phone after Isabelle's constant and futile messages, traveling from place to place until settling in China.

It was April now—months since his departure—and the morning sun was starting to glaze the multi-colored awnings of the storefronts below his apartment. Magnus pulled back the shimmering curtain and peered down into the city. Beams of light danced across his skin, but he no longer felt their heat. He was empty inside and he preferred it that way. The less attachment, Magnus thought, the better. Only Chairman Meow remained at his side, pawing at his leg in search of some breakfast.

"Yes—yes, I know," he sighed to the feline. "Coming right up."

With a flick of his wrist, a bowl full of tiny morsels appeared by the door. Chairman Meow purred softly and pranced over towards the meal. Magnus returned his attention to the thriving city, watching as eager shopkeepers hauled vegetables, fish, and fruit onto the sidewalk.

The day began early here. Restaurant owners came down to the busy market before the sun had even gained distance over the horizon. They purchased supplies and food from various vendors, enough to last them the day. The evenings were fairly quiet here, though, which was why Magnus had chosen this specific location. He tried to avoid mingling with the locals during his nightly strolls.

A woman emerged from the café across the street; he saw through the glamour quite easily. Mundanes took no notice of the boarded up shop, but they couldn't see the glowing red sign out front, or the pair of pixies fighting over something Magnus had no interest in. Much like Taki's in Manhattan, The Ginger Café catered to Downworlders, having an assortment of otherworldly food readily accessible. It was the only thing Magnus hated about his living arrangements; he wanted nothing to do with any part of the Shadow World, which was why he'd placed wards up around his home. He didn't want people opening portals in his living room. And he wouldn't offer help even if they managed it.

The olive-skinned woman knew Magnus well, though; he often visited the café out of sheer boredom when it was nearly deserted. But it was never to chat or catch up with the occasional Downworld news, only to quell his appetite. Her name was Georgia. Once a mermaid, Georgia had abandoned her clan, lost her tail, and had chosen to return to her human form so that she could marry a mortal. Although it had cut her expected life span in half, Magnus understood her choice. At one point, he would have done the same for the person he loved. He couldn't fault her for wanting a normal life. He just hoped she had made the right decision because there was no going back once you severed those ties.

He moved to the mirror and stared at the hollow emptiness in his green-gold eyes. He was a shell of his former self, but there were still traces of the old Magnus etched into the set of his jaw. He hadn't abandoned himself completely, just omitted that part which once cared about whether people lived or died. It no longer concerned him; the trials and tribulations of the Mundane world were not his to mend. Shadowhunters were charged with defending that world, and he was clearly _not_ Shadowhunter material.

Another sharp flick of his wrist erased the deep circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept well in months, but Magnus was not in the business of shabby-looking complexions and tattered clothing. Inside his apartment was one thing. The outside world was another matter entirely. He had a reputation to uphold, even if no one knew where he was.

Blue sparks tickled his fingertips, and he was instantly transformed from his groggy, rundown state into to a bright, shining sparkle. Tipped in green, his spikey hair jutted up, making him smile for the first time this morning. A matching, sequined scarf materialized and wrapped around his neck, followed by a whoosh of air as his silk robe was traded for leather pants, and a long, glittery top with no sleeves and little emerald beads decorating the hem. Tucking his feet into a pair of glistening, black shoes, he walked into the living room.

Golden plates hung in neat, orderly rows above the white crown molding. Each of them depicted different cities that Magnus had encountered throughout his travels. One of Paris, with a gleaming park surrounding the famous Eifel Tower, another showing the great volcanic expanse of Hawaii, and even one of the Brooklyn Bridge stretched out across a yellow sky. This plate had been damaged during the move. Magnus didn't care; he was still the High Warlock of Brooklyn, but it was no longer his home. He ventured there secretly by portal, and only when he absolutely needed to. He wasn't hiding from Alec. He was just finished with that part of his life. All his correspondence with the Clave had ceased, his loyalty to their corrupt organization severed. They could not call upon him again. He would not help.

Along the wall sat dozens of paintings from various eras of his life, some of naked women posing with bowls of fruit, and others of sunsets and tides lapping the shore of foreign lands. In the center of the room, a round mahogany table that was far too large for one individual, held dozens of open books. Magnus hadn't touched them in weeks, nor did he want to right at this very moment. A part of him, no matter how hard he tried to burn it from his heart, still wanted to protect Alec. He'd been researching ways to destroy the second mortal cup and the army created by Sebastian in hopes that it would spare Alec from having to fight the upcoming battle. Magnus could feel it deep in his bones; something was brewing that would destroy the world as he knew it. He was planning on avoiding the chaos at all costs—a thought he would never have entertained prior to leaving New York. At that time, he'd been prepared to fight for his Shadowhunter, but now he wanted nothing more than to lay low until one side exterminated the other. However, the thought of Alec being wiped off the planet was more horrific than his betrayal, and it forced Magnus to carry on with his research, despite how he felt.

It had become an obsession.

A long, mauve couch, almost identical to the one he'd destroyed in Brooklyn, was pushed against the east wall by the open fire place. Magnus poured himself a cup of coffee, strolled across the cool, wood floor, and took a seat. Chairman Meow joined him, fluffing out his tail as he spun a few times and finally came to rest in his lap.

"It's just you and me against the world," mumbled Magnus, stroking the cat's fur. "I hope you're prepared for a lonely existence."

He'd said it more to himself than the cat, but Chairman Meow replied with an irritated purr that Magnus wasn't sure how to take. It was hard to talk to animals when they didn't want to converse. "Sorry, my old friend," he sighed.

_My only friend_, Magnus thought. He'd isolated himself on purpose, and although he had acquaintances around the world, there was no one that he could actually call a friend. The only friends he'd ever had were either dead, or mixed up in something that Magnus wasn't a part of anymore. Clary, Jocelyn, Luke, Jace, Alec, Isabelle, the list went on. But they weren't_ truly_ his friends; they only wanted something from him. He had been their pet, someone to use and discard, much like Camille had done centuries earlier. He'd taken care of their injuries, sheltered them from harm, and even fought alongside them, only to be betrayed. No, they were not his friends. Perhaps the daylighter, though. Simon had always been someone Magnus liked. And Simon—if he didn't die now that he no longer bore the mark—would be around until the end of time. Simon and Magnus would outlast everyone in that wretched circle. Maybe they could be friends once the others disappeared. Maybe.

For now, he was alone with only a cat for comfort. Solace was something he was used to, but silence was not. He remembered what Will had told him once: "I'm not afraid of the darkness, just of the silence that precedes it." How true his words were; the calm before the storm was terrifying. It was practically making him stir crazy, which was why he looked forward to his nightly ritual of roaming the streets, picking up the odd paper here and there, and casually slipping into The Ginger Café for a bite to eat. He avoided Downworlders at all costs, unless his position of High Warlock called for his presence. The patrons in the café took no notice of him.

It was the best part of his day—the only part of his day that erased the nagging pain in his chest.

* * *

He felt Meliorn's presence the moment his foot hit the damp sidewalk. It had rained, coating the cement in rivers of brown and black sludge where water mixed with puddles of market refuse. The overwhelming stench of garbage was enough to keep out any squeamish Mundane, but not the Fair Folk. If they wanted something, they did whatever it took to obtain it.

Magnus spun around, his silver sequin coat twirling out behind him like a cape. "Well met, Meliorn. Say what it is you're here to say. I have no interest in being stalked by the Fae."

Through the steam rising up from the sewer drain, Meliorn appeared. His hair was pinned back, stretching his taut face and making his blue-green eyes stand out against the café storefront. He carried a small box in his left hand, decorated with the seal of the Queen. Magnus recognized the language. He eyed the box for only a moment.

"Well met, Magnus" answered Meliorn, bowing ever so slightly. "I hope I have not come at a disagreeable time."

"As a matter of fact, you have." Magnus flicked his wrist. "Now off you go…I have no interest in anything you have to offer."

"Is it true what they say then?" Magnus dropped his hand and stared at Meliorn as he continued. "The great Magnus Bane has turned his back the Clave."

"I have not turned from anything," Magnus lied. His allegiance to the Clave was null and void.

"If you have not turned, then our business is concluded. However, should you change your mind, my lady requests an audience." He stood there, expectant and confident.

Magnus knew full well that any request from the Seelie Queen was a deadly one. His past experiences with that awful woman had only ended badly. She hated him, so what reason did she have to send her lapdog knocking on his front door?

"Our business is concluded," Magnus firmly stated.

"So your loyalty remains with the Shadowhunters of Manhattan. Pity."

That struck a nerve; Magnus didn't cater to any member of the Clave. Not anymore. "I owe loyalty only to myself."

Meliorn's eyes lit up, the blue haze in his irises growing brighter. "If you have parted with the Clave, then why greet me under such false pretense? I only wish to extend a courtesy from my lady. What do you have to lose, Magnus?"

"Nothing," he answered, defeated. "I have nothing left to lose."

"It has been a pleasure, as always." Meliorn handed over the small box covered in red symbols, indicative of the Fae.

Then he turned and disappeared into the fog.

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**A/N: Trying to get back into posting this story. Enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3: Olde Walled Garden

**Chapter Three—Olde Walled Garden**

He'd opened the box on a deserted park bench. The silver latch had popped open the second that his fingers traveled over the seal, as if preprogrammed for his touch. It had fit neatly into the palm of his hand, and he'd rested it there as he glanced to the glowing, blue words inside: _Olde Walled Garden, midnight_.

Curiosity became his downfall. Although wanting nothing to do with the Shadow World, a request from the Seelie Queen was too intriguing to discount. He had listened to Clary telling everyone about the Queen's alliance with Sebastian, how she'd monitored their conversations months before through the rings Clary had stolen from the Institute. Meliorn's sudden appearance only sparked his compulsive desire to protect Alec, bringing it to the forefront of his mind again. If he could weasel his way into the court, perhaps he could find a way to destroy the second cup.

He knew it was a foolish idea, that it went against the very foundation of his new, boring life, but Magnus couldn't help how he felt. He still loved that stupid Nephilim. Hiding away from the world would never change that. Months of silence had only strengthened it.

The world around him was as dark and foreboding as the thought of Alec himself. He loved someone who could never love him in return. There would always be something standing in the way like age, evil, and so called friends. Alec didn't belong with him. The Shadowhunter deserved happiness with someone at least of his own species. Happiness was inconsequential to Magnus now. Maybe in a few centuries he would find a sliver of joy again, but for the time being, anger and hurt infected his heart. But even so, he would not sacrifice Alec to the demons because of his emotions. There were bigger things at stake—the same things that Magnus had already decided to stay away from.

But just because he was planning on speaking to the Seelie Queen didn't mean that he was getting involved in her feud, or whatever nonsense she was up to. He was merely curious as to why she wanted to speak with him one on one after so many years of disgust. What he did with the information he learned was his own business. He might choose to tell the Clave, and then again, he might not. He preferred to keep his nose out of their quarrels. If he was off the grid, the Lightwood's would never find him. And that was the way it needed to stay.

As much as he loved Alec, their relationship was over. Trust had been broken, hearts had been crushed. There was no going back to that. What he did now was for his own survival. If he happened to help Alec along the way, then so be it. But it wasn't his main interest.

Magnus came to a stop at the entrance of the Olde Walled Garden. A massive iron gate rose up before him; delicate ivy clung to the metal bars. Beams of moonlight glimmered across the tips of the lush greenery on the other side, beckoning him forward as though being greeted by an old friend. He'd been here before; the enchanting garden was a passageway to the grim tunnels beneath the soil. But it was a mirage, harboring a terrible secret. Only those who wished to grieve came to this place. All appeared tranquil on the surface, underground it was another world completely.

Known to some as the City of Wailing Hearts, its inhabitants survived off of pain, agony, and heartache. The garden, as beautiful and peaceful as it seemed, absorbed the gutted energy like a sponge, feeding it through the roots to the people dwelling below—a mixture of warlocks who'd lost their way, twisted, self-centered Goblins, and trolls. Once the negative emotions released from the victim's body, they were left feeling light, happy, and carefree. Your troubles were all but forgotten. Downworlders flocked to this place like moths to a flame, though only a few knew the reality of the garden's magic. One ounce of despair sustained the underground hodgepodge for decades, and Magnus had given them all a triple dose when he'd broken down in the garden after leaving Manhattan. It had been his first stop, and it had not worked. Magnus had too many pent up emotions to be fully cured.

He pushed the heavy gate open, feeling the familiar rush of warm air he associated with the garden. Nothing had changed. A long dirt path stretched out before him, winding through the large, brick-walled enclosure. Lampposts sat at five foot intervals along the path, their light casting shadows on various sculptures of gargoyles, angels, and demons. A few benches with iron legs painted in green ivy peeked out from the heavy shrubbery, but only one was occupied.

Her hair fluttered in the light breeze like autumn leaves. Colors of red, gold, and orange cascaded down to the long, sheer yellow dress hanging slightly off of her narrow shoulders. In her hand she clutched a daisy, pulling off the petals one at a time and sending them along the air current where he had no doubt that they would land and take up root. His body tensed as the vines drew in the sorrow resting in his heart, but he carried on towards the Queen as though nothing was amiss.

"Well met, Magnus. I wasn't sure you would accept," she whispered, prying another petal loose. Her voice was soft and reassuring, but her blue-green eyes, as she looked up, were as hard as Magnus remembered.

"You piqued my interest." Magnus took a seat next to her on the bench, stiffening slightly as she laughed dryly. It sounded more like a cackle in his mind, a stark reminder that she was no one to be trifled with.

"How have you been?" asked the Queen. "I am told you have parted ways with your Shadowhunter friends. Pity, that. You seemed happy. I'm sorry things didn't work out."

He knew sarcasm when he heard it. Although the Queen couldn't lie, she could certainly bend the truth to suit her needs. She was as sorry for his current circumstances as she was innocent of any wrong doing with Sebastian.

"I am well," he lied. The garden knew his secret sorrow. "Though, I am surprised that you bothered to contact me."

"My interests have changed. Funny how that happens when you least expect it." She flashed him a knowing smile, one that insinuated her words held more meaning than he realized.

"And where might your interests lie now?" inquired Magnus, thinking over her last words. He wondered what else had changed in his absence.

"With the victor, of course." She smiled at him, her sharp teeth bright and deadly.

"I'm going to assume you mean Sebastian and his army of lunatics?"

"Now, now…let us not judge until we have the full synopsis. I do dislike hasty discussions when one doesn't have all the details," grinned the Queen.

Magnus casually leaned back on the bench and crossed his legs, presenting a false bravado to the woman beside him. The longer he stayed in the garden, the more he felt drained and restless—the complete opposite of what others felt. It was as though his heart fought to keep the memory of Alec, rather than submitting to the thrill of release.

"You didn't drag me all the way to Denmark to play games. What do you want from me?"

She smiled again, the corners of her eyes narrowing in delight. "I have a proposition for you. As you well know by now, I am in contact with Jonathon Morgenstern." The Queen would never use the name Sebastian, but it still caught him off guard. "This is no secret, Magnus," she carried on as his eyes widened. "Surely Clarissa told you?"

Magnus nodded. "But to have you admit it _is_ surprising."

"I do not lie, Magnus Bane," she roared. "Why should I hide from the Clave? They are no match for me. And since you have cut all ties with them, I am offering you a chance to join me in my conquest."

"Don't you mean Sebastian's conquest?"

Her lips pursed, contorting only for a moment before smoothing out into the same placid grin. "Jonathon's victory is my own. I have lived under the Clave's rule for far too long. Do you not feel that same sense of repression? Jonathon offered me a way out and I took it."

Magnus thought it over. Ever since he could remember, he'd always aided the Clave. He'd been the one they'd called at all hours of the day and night, begging for help. But not once had they viewed him as an equal. He would always be a Downworlder, always disposable. The only person that he had ever truly loved beyond any shadow of a doubt had tried to change who he was. Alec had tried to turn Magnus into a mortal. Was it possible that he'd done it not because of his age or mortality, but because he couldn't stand to be with someone of lesser stature? Did Alec secretly detest the fact that he was a Downworlder?

"Yes," he answered truthfully. "I feel it too."

"Love does strange things to people, does it not?"

Magnus huffed. "What do you know of love?"

"Do you not think I love my people? I am in a position of power, and with that comes certain obligations and responsibilities. Do not judge me on what you see or hear. If I did not act accordingly, my society would crumble."

"Your people are fickle and devious. Why should I trust you?" He folded his arms defiantly, knowing better than to insult the Queen. He just couldn't allow himself to walk straight into a trap if he could do something about it.

"Of all the people in this wretched dimension, you know me the best. We have history, Magnus. You can either be a great ally, or a dead opponent." She pulled the last petal from the stem and blew it down the path.

"So it's a kill or be killed situation then, is it?"

"As I said, things change. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good." She flicked the stem into the bushes.

"You're right, things _do_ change. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

**A/N**: Hope you're enjoying this. Next chapter coming soon since this was so short.


	4. Chapter 4: Raising the Stakes

**Chapter Four—Raising the Stakes**

Chairman Meow stretched out along the windowsill, soaking up the afternoon rays that bounced off of his fur. Magnus smiled at the cat for a moment, grateful that he would be left out of this unfolding disaster; how simple it must be to just lounge around all day and night without a care in the world. Beside him, Sebastian pushed a handful of Yuan into the center of the round table and declared that he was "all in".

"I fold," said Magnus, and dropped his cards on the table.

"Me too," sighed George, the younger of the Mortmain brothers.

Vic Mortmain grinned and shoved the rest of his stash into the pile. "I call."

"As do I," Bannak chimed in.

A Shadowhunter, albeit evil, three warlocks and a Kelpie playing a friendly game of poker was the last thing Magnus had expected in his Shanghai apartment on a Sunday afternoon. He could barely stand being this close to Sebastian. After all, he had killed Max. But Magnus had no choice in the matter now; he'd taken a pledge and vowed an oath to the spawn of Lilith.

Smoke lingered in the air around them, the smell of cloves clung to his nostrils like tar; he could barely breathe. He had to constantly remind himself that he was not truly a part of their society, that he was only doing this to help Alec. But there was a part of Magnus that had begun to understand Sebastian's wild ideals—a planet carved from darkness with no oppression from the Clave, ruled by demons and Downworlders. It sounded good, but he had been at this juncture before.

He had once shared a bond with a young man who spoke of travesty. Parents murdered by demons, forced to consume a toxic substance until he became completely dependent on that toxin for his survival. "You don't know what darkness is until it devours you," Jem had said. "And when it does, your whole world evaporates along with it."

Magnus had witnessed Jem's struggles, and had seen the dependency in his silver-colored eyes. Sebastian was much the same, though on a darker path than his old friend. Once evil touched your soul, it left a mark behind that no amount of time could heal. Sebastian had that mark. It was in his eyes, his touch, and the red scar running across his chest. He had hoped Michael's sword would have killed the boy, or at least removed that evil. But it hadn't. It only seemed to strengthen his resolve and the hatred in his veins.

"Royal Flush, pay up," Sebastian barked.

"You cheated!" Bannak stood up, kicking his chair backwards.

Sebastian sat there grinning, his eyes as empty and as soulless as ever. "Temper…temper. I'm sure Magnus wouldn't want us fighting in his home."

"He's right," Magnus said, jumping to his feet. "I'd prefer it if you took this outside."

"Yes, shall we?" Sebastian asked, amused.

Bannak shook his head, peering at Sebastian through thin green slits. "It's not necessary. I'll see myself out." He turned to Magnus. "If you wouldn't mind."

"As you wish." Magnus sighed dramatically and flicked his wrist.

The portal opened and Bannak stepped through, tipping his hat. He'd had to put measures in place that allowed Sebastian to come and go as he pleased, but still maintain his cover. The wards prevented anyone from coming into the building except Magnus and Sebastian. Everyone else was portaled in and out by invitation only. No one was permitted to leave the apartment through the front door; Sebastian feared his location would be detected. Although he didn't like the idea of being a prisoner in his own home, Magnus had very little choice now that he had joined what Simon would have called "The dark side."

"He is such a sore loser," Sebastian moaned. "Tell me again, gentlemen, why do we invite him?"

"Because he brings the booze," Vic replied, sipping on his yellow Incinthe.

Golden flecks sparkled inside the liquid, shining under the lights. The goblin-made substance removed a great deal of the drinker's inhibitions, but Magnus enjoyed the banned beverage whenever he was able to get his hands on some. He'd been stockpiling it over the last few weeks because having to deal with Sebastian and his minions was a greater challenge than he thought. He needed to lose himself sometimes. It was the only thing that made this deal bearable.

"True, but I really should kill him. He's a weak link," Sebastian mused.

"And risk the wrath of the Queen?" George looked shocked, the gills on the side of his neck rapidly fluttering open and closed.

"_Please_, she's putty in my hands. The Seelie Queen knows what side to choose. And when the full moon rises in a few weeks, she will be kneeling in front of me like everyone else."

Magnus raised a brow. "I do hope you mean present company excluded."

"Of course." Sebastian's lips stretched out into a pursed line, giving nothing away.

Vic and George chuckled and clinked glasses before downing the rest of their Incinthe. Magnus had only just met them two weeks prior, but he knew their predecessor well. He wondered if Tessa would be interested to know of Axel Mortmain's descendants. How they had ended up as warlocks when their kind could not reproduce, Magnus hadn't a clue. But he suspected that somewhere along the lines, Mortmain had struck a deal with a demon. He wondered if it was his father.

George smashed his cigarette into the ashtray and stood. "We'll see you tomorrow. There's a meeting tonight. Can't be late."

"Give Copernicus my regards," said Sebastian in a playful tone. "And tell him to expect my arrival."

Vic nodded, his forked tongue slipping in and out of view. "With pleasure."

Magnus raised the portal again and the two warlocks slid through, leaving him alone with Sebastian.

"Why are you getting mixed up with Copernicus Barstow?" asked Magnus, turning on the demon Shadowhunter the moment the portals' light fluttered out.

Sebastian smiled and ran a spindly hand through his platinum hair. "He is the High Warlock of Wales. He could be of some value to our cause."

"He is nothing more than a glorified pixie trader," Magnus scoffed. He knew the warlock well, and had shared a territory at one point in time, back in his London days. They had, at one time, been friends. But those days were long gone. "He has no more power than my little finger."

Sebastian roared with laughter and tossed his head back, waking Chairman Meow who scuttled across the landing and down the hall with an annoyed yowl. "I've seen that finger of yours summon Greater Demons from beyond this dimension, Magnus. Don't sell yourself short."

"I just think that the number of people invested in your little venture is growing beyond sustainable means."

"I will have_ everyone_ at my disposal." Sebastian's voice grew cold. "They have seen my power, and they know what I can do. It won't be long before the Clave bows at my feet."

"You dumped a pair of angel's wings on the Institute floor. I think you've proven to both heaven and hell what you're capable of. What I want to know is what we are planning next."

Sebastian had already infiltrated the Manhattan Institute, but his vendetta against Jace and Clary had interrupted his plans. Having him so close to Alec made his heart pound, and he hoped that Sebastian took no notice. The more information he could gather, the easier it would be to pass on, if he was so inclined.

"Once I have the numbers on my side, we take the Institute's first, ending in Manhattan." Sebastian's eyes glittered like two onyx pools. "I will take everything from my siblings, leaving them no choice but to join our cause."

"May I remind you of our deal? No harm is to come to Alexander." Magnus spoke firmly, but he thought his tone betrayed him, gave too many of his feelings away.

Sebastian took no notice. "Are you sure you can turn him?"

"He is Jace's _parabatai_. If Jace joins, Alec will follow." It was a stretch, but it was the only thing Magnus could say to ease Sebastian's mind.

"I wouldn't worry about my brother." Sebastian waved dismissively. "He will see the light soon enough. In the meantime, you are to continue tracking down rogue warlocks. If they will not join, then they will die."

Magnus sat in the chair beside him, mulling over his words. He'd been tracking warlocks for weeks. It was a boring task, really. Those who knew him had already pledged their lives to Sebastian. Those who hadn't a clue as to who Magnus Bane was had evaded capture. He hated turning against his own kind, but what choice did he have? Sebastian would kill him if he knew the struggles of his heart, and then there would be no way to help Alec.

"And what of Copernicus?" Magnus asked. "Do you intend to murder him as well?"

"He will join or die. That is the way of the new world. Do you doubt my plan, Magnus? I'm not murdering kittens in their sleep or boiling puppies in oil. They have a choice. It's really quite simple."

Magnus shook his head, knowing deep down that he had to act the part. The longer he stayed with Sebastian, there more he felt his volatile influence affecting him. Magnus tried to shrug off the unwanted sensation. "Of course not. I once held allegiance to the Clave, but they stabbed me in the back. Why would I ever return to that?"

"You are a true friend. I hope the Clave enjoyed my message. I only wish I could have seen their faces." He stood, gliding around the room as if floating on the air itself. Magnus' cat eyes trailed after him, suddenly awestruck and hypnotized. Sebastian demanded attention wherever he went; Magnus was no exception. "It was so easy to walk through the doors. Of course, now that's practically impossible."

"You were a little rash, Sebastian." Magnus crossed his legs and tried to subdue both his longing for Alec's safety and the underlying hint of adoration he felt toward Sebastian. It was getting harder to control, picking away at Magnus's resolve in an effort to break through.

Sebastian went rigid. Even with his back turned, Magnus felt the dark angel's anger ripple across the room. "They betrayed me, and they will die for their trouble. But not before I have a little fun."

"But you went there for the stone, and came away with nothing."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. I came away with the satisfaction of their _fear_!" he shouted, banging his fist on the table.

A loud thump echoed around the apartment, and Magnus cringed as his precious mahogany table—that had only recently been cleared of books—split straight down the middle. Sebastian was no one to be trifled with. "And now that you have their fear, how are we going to get what you went there for in the first place?" he asked, trying to remain calm.

"The entire Clave put some sort of spell on every Institute across the world. It will take me months to break it. Unless…"

He paused, turning to Magnus with a gruesome smile that stretched his face in an odd manner. It was a sick grin, and he contemplated if little Max Lightwood had seen something similar before Sebastian ruthlessly cut him down.

"Unless what?" Magnus eyed him carefully.

He felt Sebastian's wickedness searching for a way to infect his heart.

"You have been an invaluable asset to me, but now I need a new favor. I think it's time you paid our friends a little visit."

* * *

**A/N**: Next chapter coming soon! There's something wrong with my review replies, so I'll answer some questions here. Yes, we will hear from Alec within the next few chapters. I love writing Malec, so I am always up for your ideas if you wish to send them my way. And, thank you all for the positive comments.


	5. Chapter 5: Homecoming

**Chapter Five - Homecoming **

He wasn't surprised to see her. After all, he'd made quite the ruckus just to rattle up some attention. He would have painted his face on every telephone pole in Manhattan if Sebastian had asked him to. But, of course, there were no reasons to go to such extreme lengths. Instead, he'd called a meeting of warlocks and announced his return. He knew the word would spread quickly, so as he marched up to his front door, he couldn't help but smile at the victory.

She was leaning against the wall in her trademark boots and black Shadowhunter gear. A golden whip coiled around her left forearm, gleaming under the dim bulb above the door. Long tendrils of raven colored hair spilled across her shoulders, coming to rest at the edge of her belt where a seraph blade and stele hung securely.

"Magnus Bane's wayward house for the lonely Shadhowhunter is closed. Come back tomorrow," he said, thrusting the key into the lock on the door.

"Where have you been?" Isabelle snapped, knocking his hand away. The key rattled for a moment before the door swung open.

"Ouch," he chuckled, shaking his hand as if she'd actually injured him. "I may need this hand one day."

"Answer me!" she demanded, her dark eyes blazing with anger.

Magnus had always admired Isabelle's courage and defiance, but he was in no mood for her games tonight. Sebastian had ordered him to infiltrate the Institute, gain back the Shadowhunter's trust, and procure the stone. Isabelle could ruin everything by starting an argument right here in the alley. He had to act cool and disinterested—make Alec come to him.

"Here and there…Los Angeles, India, Peru…you know, the usual." He smiled as best as he could, even though his insides were churning. Just seeing Alec's sister caused painful memories to surface—ones that were better left dead and buried if this was to work.

"You're banned from Peru," she hissed.

"And you are just as observant as ever." He pushed past her and headed up the stairs.

Isabelle stomped after him, her heavy boots clanking against the wood. "You really don't care anymore, do you?"

"I'm certain I have no idea what you mean."

He twisted the knob and entered his old home, choking back his sadness. Chairman Meow was nowhere to be seen, probably choosing to hide under the new furniture like a scaredy-cat. Alec's belongings had long since been removed, but the echo of his presence was everywhere, like a distant imprint marking the walls.

The cluttered mess had taken only moments to clear. Once he'd returned, Magnus had arranged the old apartment to his liking—long, black curtains, black and green paint splattered on the walls, glass tables with ruby gems etched into the legs, granite countertops in the kitchen, large beanbags scattered around the living room instead of chairs, and a grand piano sprawled out in the center in place of a table. Magnus ate on his lap or down at Taki's. He had no interest in entertaining guests, despite his mission.

"I'm talking about Alec!" she shouted. "I called and called, but you never answered. How could you do that to him?"

Magnus plopped down into one of the beanbags and slipped off his boots. His glittery jacket followed. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his ripped muscle shirt, pushing one of the red dangling beads back into place. "As I recall, it was Alec who caused the damage," he said nonchalantly, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

She stood there motionless; a first for Isabelle Lightwood.

"Nothing to say? No comeback?" He stared her down. This was going exactly to plan.

"He was wrong and he knows that now," she sighed. "Please, now that you're back…talk to him. Maybe you two can make up or something."

"Alexander is better off without me. I have no interest in making amends."

"You only just got back, I know. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe I'm asking too much, but you have no idea what's going on." She sounded exhausted.

"This is not my first visit to Manhattan. I am fully aware of everything that goes on in my territory. Now, if you don't mind…" Magnus trailed off, hoping she would take the hint.

He flipped the television on, though he had no intentions of watching anything. He just wanted her to get out. Having her so close only reminded him of what he'd lost.

"If this isn't your first visit, then why haven't you tried to contact us before?" she asked, puzzled.

"I didn't contact you _this_ time, either," he snapped. "You came to me."

"Because I need your help!" she yelled, throwing her hands up.

"Of course you do. Why else would you be here? It's never a social call with you people, and I have already told the Clave I am not interested in helping with your cause."

Isabelle stormed across the room and slumped down into the beanbag opposite him. "Look, I know we've come to you loads of times, but this is different. There's a war coming, and we can't fight it without you."

"And your real motives become clear." He chuckled and summoned up a glass of golden Incinthe, hoping it would take the edge off. He was nothing but a pet to these people. "For once I'd like to be wrong."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If I have to explain that to you, Isabelle, then it means nothing." His hands squeezed around the glass. "As for everything else, I'm not getting involved in any war. I will not choose sides, and I will not help you. So if that's all you want…"

Her face darkened; enraged shades of red pooled in her cheeks. "And I suppose you don't care that Alec is out there every night fighting dark Shadowhunters? He almost _died_ last week when one overpowered him. If it hadn't been for Jace—"

"Jace, Jace, Jace!" Magnus threw his hands up, exasperated. It was _always_ Jace this and Jace that—it was completely infuriating. But Isabelle's words stung his heart. Sebastian had neglected to tell him that he'd sent dark Shadowhunters into Manhattan. "Alec is well protected whenever that boy is around."

"But what he needs is _you_. Alec is…" Isabelle trailed off, casting her eyes to the ground.

She looked so much like her brother it was downright frightening. The only difference was the eyes. Isabelle's eyes were like two black saucers; Alec's reminded him of a crystal blue lake. The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He longed to gaze upon them again, but this had to be on Sebastian's terms, not his own.

"Better off without me," he finished her sentence.

Isabelle jerked up. "No, as a matter of fact, he's _not_. It's like he has a death wish. After he couldn't reach you and found your apartment in shambles, he thought you were either dead or missing. He goes out every night looking for fights...looking for _you_. He won't even talk to me anymore."

Her sad voice tugged at Magnus's heartstrings. Alec was out there fighting things he had no business involving himself with. He'd turned reckless and dangerous in Magnus' absence. Perhaps this was what the Queen spoke of.

_Funny how things change, isn't it?_

As much as it pained him, Magnus waved her off. "He is a Shadowhunter. That is his job."

"You've changed, Magnus," she said, rising to her feet and speaking the words in his heart: _You've changed_. "You're not the man he loved."

Loved, as in _past _tense.

His chest tightened.

"Your brother never loved me. Did he tell you what he was planning?" asked Magnus coolly.

"Yes, and it was wrong. He knows that. He wasn't going to go through with it. But he _loved_ you, Magnus Bane. Maybe it's _you_ who didn't love_ him_." Isabelle turned on her heels and trudged out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

"I did love him," he whispered to himself. "More than he will ever know."

* * *

Magnus ducked into Hamich and Flotts, a bookstore on the upper east side. Since leaving his apartment a few minutes earlier, he had felt someone watching him and was grateful for the protection of the wards surrounding the shop.

Red and orange text lined the shelves, rising all the way to the ceiling. A few brass candleholders lit the small room, throwing shadows onto the counter covered in old bits of newspaper and black ink. He walked past several glass cases filled to the brim with bat's wings, medicinal herbs, black smoke sticks, silver pendants, and daggers, following the gruff voices to the end of the hall. The door gave way and he entered a round, stone room where dozens of warlocks sat conversing with one another around a square, wooden table resting on four limestone statues of Lilith. The same brass candles glittered against the bland wall.

He knew most of them as they were subjects in his territory, all of them displaying some trademark sign of their warlock heritage. They looked up as he entered and took a seat at the head of the table.

"You know why we are all here," said Magnus, addressing the room.

They nodded in unison, though he had a hard time distinguishing the acceptance from those with disfigured heads. The one known as Gorflax raised his stubbly arm instead because his face was more animal-like than anything else.

"It is good to see you again, High Warlock Bane," Greeta hissed. Tendrils of her hair were shaped into hissing snakes that observed Magnus like a second set of eyes.

"And you." He smiled to the old woman who had a history of luring men into her lair just to serve them up for dinner.

He would rather not have to converse with these people at all; his mind was consumed with thoughts of Alec. But this was the plan, and he must abide by the rules.

"As you know, we face a war with Shadowhunters. In the coming days you will need to make a choice on where you stand," he announced to the odd mismatch of gatherers.

"And where do _you_ stand, Magnus Bane?" Rory Grissom hissed. He had a serpent's tongue and green scales for skin.

"My business is my own," Magnus answered. He wasn't sure announcing his loyalty to Sebastian right here in Manhattan would aid his cause.

"You wish us to fight for you yet you will not give us your standing," Rory snarled. "I will not enter into battle without cause."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Are you afraid, Grissom?"

"Rory Grissom is afraid of nothing!" he shouted.

"Then I suggest you refrain from further outbursts in my presence before I _give_ you something to fear." Magnus leaned back, drumming his fingers on the carved armrests. He waited only a moment for Rory to settle down before continuing. "Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted…something is coming. I do not ask you to fight for me. I ask you to fight for yourselves. Only _you_ can make the decision on which side you will join. Although, I don't have to tell you that either choice could be detrimental to your health."

A short, plump warlock with claws for fingernails spoke up. "I have heard rumors of the dark angel. I pledge my life to his cause."

"I too have heard the rumors," Franco said. Black horns dripping with slime jutted out from the top of his head, and Magnus suppressed a shudder. "Though, one angel against the entire Clave is a foolish endeavor."

"Foolish or not, the angel is real. He will have your loyalty, or your head." Magnus thought giving them something to fear without giving away his own standing was better than outing his alliance with Sebastian.

"You speak as though you have not yet chosen a side," Franco said.

Magnus had to derail this train before he mentioned something that would ruin his chances with Alec. Sebastian's plan depended on it. "We all need to make a decision. As for myself…I am neither _for_ nor _against_ this war."

A chorus of voices sprung up around him, each of them shouting out their choices: _For the angel, against the angel, to hell with them both!_

He took that as his cue to leave. He'd done what was asked of him; he'd planted the seed. Now there were other pressing issues requiring his attention. Two days had passed since Isabelle's visit and there was still no sign of Alec. Perhaps his gamble had been too much? He had hoped that when Isabelle returned to the Institute, she would alert Alec to his presence and how standoffish he'd been. Alec was supposed to come rushing back to him and beg for his forgiveness as he had done in the subway. Then Magnus would enter the Institute by his side and retrieve the book and stone that Sebastian needed.

But maybe—just maybe—the Queen wasn't the only one who had changed.

Magnus stood and bid the room farewell; no one took any notice which was fine by him. Being the High Warlock had its perks, but there were some rather unscrupulous characters in his territory that Magnus could do without.

He made his way through the bookstore, squeezing between the glass cases until he was back out in the cobblestone alley. The scent of death hung heavy in the air. A putrid scent he often associated with Iblis demons. Someone shouted down from the rooftop. As if acting on impulse, as if the voice itself called out to him, Magnus frantically glanced up and dodged out of the way just as one of the demons splattered against the cobblestones.

A second later, two figures dropped from the rooftop, tangled together in midair. The larger of the pair, another Iblis demon, reared up and moved to strike. Blue sparks shot out from Magnus's fingertips as he took a step forward, prepared to fight. But he didn't need to; the other figure emerged from under the demon, a blue seraph blade slashing straight through the creature's neck. Black ichor splashed across the alley coating his jacket. Then all went silent as its head toppled to the ground, landing at Magnus's feet.

All he could do was stare at the person in front of him.

It was Alec.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for the continued comments and I hope you're enjoying it still. Things are about to heat up for Malec in the next few chapters. And maybe Magnus will find himself in a little trouble. Shame on him. *winks*


	6. Chapter 6: A Perfectly Good Coat

**Chapter Six - A Perfectly Good Coat**

"You have about thirty seconds to leave before I take your head as well," Alec snapped as he wiped black ichor from his cheek.

Magnus had waited so long for this moment, but now that it was here, words eluded him. He just stood there, mouth agape, trying to compose himself as his usual steady heart beat raced out of control.

Alec looked different; his black hair, although coated in blood and ichor, still hung limply in his eyes, but the boy seemed more angular than Magnus remembered. Muscles jutted out from under the torn Shadowhunter gear, making his arms look firmer, rounder, and more ominous. Black runes were drawn all over his exposed skin, except for his face. And he was taller, Magnus thought, taller than he had been. This new Alec held an edge, lacking all his former softness and all the attributes Magnus had come to associate with his love. Things had definitely changed, starting with the fact that Alec now resorted to death threats instead of hellos.

He couldn't see the blue of his eyes in the darkness, but he knew they too would be cold and unapproachable.

"Your arm..." Magnus ignored his shallow threat and reached out to touch the boy. A huge gash ran the length of Alec's forearm, and blood seeped from the open wound. It caused Magnus great distress to see him injured, even with Alec's betrayal and callous words.

Alec jerked away. "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"Alexander, please let me take a look at it," Magnus cooed. He couldn't stop himself. In his mind Alec needed him now more than ever. It was apparent that something dark and unpredictable consumed Alec that was in need of extermination.

His heart beat quickly and uncontrollably, thumping away in his chest like a derailed train plunging dangerously off of the tracks. Electric pulses skittered across his skin, causing licks of blue flame to automatically spark at his fingertips without warning. The usual control evaded him completely. Just the mere sight of Alec in this condition was tearing him to shreds. He supposed it would have happened anyway since their departure was months ago, but this new and not so improved Shadowhunter was a stranger.

"Fraternizing with Iblis demons is a crime against The Accords." Alec's face turned hard and remained unaffected by Magnus's urgent pleas. "And _don't_ call me Alexander."

Alec's attention veered to the glowing blade on the ground. Magnus knew what it meant and the blue sparks at the tips of his fingers prickled with warning.

"I wasn't dealing with any demons," he sighed, feeling defeated as he lowered his outstretched arm.

"Funny, they were guarding this place." Alec scooped up the dagger and twirled it in his hands. Magnus thought he looked somewhat majestic, if not downright scary. "You know…the same one you just walked out of?"

Magnus hadn't realized Iblis demons were there when he'd arrived. But at least he knew now who had followed him. "And you would know this how? Have you been spying on me?"

He thought he saw a splotch of blush rise in Alec's cheeks, but Magnus couldn't be sure.

"If you mean following as in watching your every move, then yes." Alec's voice seemed to grow one shade darker with every word he spoke. "You've been gone for months and you suddenly just show up right after my dad goes missing? Call me crazy, but I think that's a little suspicious."

"Robert Lightwood is missing?" Magnus didn't know anything about it. Sebastian had mentioned nothing about kidnapping a member of Alec's family. Then again, Robert had always been a breaker of rules and covenant. He probably left of his own accord.

"Don't act like you don't know. Where have you been? Hiding in some garbage heap for the past few months? All hell is breaking loose here. People go missing every day."

Magnus tried to ease the situation with a quirky smile. "Something like that."

"Glad you find it amusing," Alec spat. He brought the blade hilt within inches of Magnus's face. "Turn away now before I _make_ you."

Unafraid, Magnus stepped forward, practically daring Alec to attack with his stare alone. Flames still sparked around his fingernails, but there was nothing the warlock could do about them. He was unable to stop the longing for Alec from coursing through his veins and further fueling the magical response. "Can we talk?"

"You did enough talking for the both of us." Alec abruptly turned and stomped off down the alley, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

Magnus followed.

"Leave me alone!" Alec called out behind him. "If you follow me, I _will_ kill you. Consider that your final warning, _Downworlder_!"

Downworlder. Not Magnus, not warlock, not friend. It was like a slap to the face. After all his service to the Clave and the history they shared between them, he wasn't even worth a courtesy hello. In Alec's eyes, he was below him now, not worthy of his title or even his life.

Magnus stopped—stopped breathing, stopped moving, and stopped hoping. This was not his Alec anymore. The threat felt like ice running through his body. Alec had no right to say that. He'd been the one in the wrong, not Magnus. That thought alone made Magnus angrier than he ever had been before.

His whole body began to shake. He could feel Sebastian's influence rushing up to meet him like Lilith's spawn was there mocking him, watching him burn. The thumping, pulsating bloodlust Sebastian so freely exhibited had been slowly tainting every fiber in his body. The longer he stayed with Sebastian, the more infected he became, leaving himself open to that same callous regard for human life. It gnawed away at his insides, splitting him wide open.

"Don't you _dare _speak to me like that, Alexander Lightwood!" His voice boomed through the alley as the crackling sparks at the tips of his fingers grew brighter and spread up his arm. Magnus felt strong and powerful, enough so that he could take on this immature Shadowhunter if he had to. He didn't really want to attack Alec, he just had to reason with him. And this seemed like the only way to get through to the young boy now.

"Do you actually think you can win against _me_?" Alec cackled, brows lifting in surprise as he spun around.

"Take it back," snarled Magnus, flicking the sparks down to the cobblestones. They bounced along the blood and ichor soaked alleyway like runaway embers from a fireplace. The pain was almost unbearable. Alec wanted to kill him—_him_, his past love and confidant. _As easily disposable as a pet_, he thought.

"I said I'd kill you and I meant it." Alec took a dangerous step forward, narrowing his blue eyes. He wasn't backing down from a fight, and although Magnus didn't want to injure the boy, he couldn't gain control. "Now back off, _old man_, before you get hurt."

"Do not provoke me, _Alexander_," Magnus snapped. The hissing sound grew louder within the blue flames and as they danced along the ground, smoke rose from stagnant puddles of crimson at his feet. It was taking everything Magnus had not to unleash his warlock power on the arrogant boy, which contorted his face into a half smile, half sour look that would have chilled him to the bone had he seen it himself. It was killing him to watch Alec this way, hearing him talk as though they were enemies and had never been intimate. Even Camille didn't harbor him ill will, and she was as devious as they came.

"You're doing that all on your own." Alec spun the hilt in his palm. "You have about two seconds until I wipe that smirk off your face."

It reminded Magnus of a movie, or more precisely, a western. Good versus evil, a showdown right here in the alley with guns drawn and threats made. He imagined Alec waiting until the clock struck noon, and then drawing a pistol only to have it misfire at the last second. Alec was no match for him, not even with his Shadowhunter abilities and new found bravery. Although he had always been brave, Magnus sensed an edge to his former lover now. He was reckless, dangerous, and wildly out of control. Was he to blame for Alec's delusional, somewhat suicidal nature?

A change in tactic, Magnus thought, was in order. "We can be reasonable about this."

"There's no reasoning with a demon." Alec whispered the angel's name and the seraph blade burst into life, casting glimmers of white and blue against the walls.

Alec charged without another word.

Magnus rolled to his left, dodging the first attack quite easily. But Alec was faster than he had anticipated and rebounded before even hitting the cobblestone road. He lunged, forcing Magnus back against the wall. From this distance, he could smell Alec's lust for vengeance, and could taste the sorrow on his tongue. The boy lashed out because he was angry, not because he hated Magnus. He couldn't blame him for that, but he also valued his own life.

The instinct to survive combined with Sebastian's hateful influence overpowered the part of Magnus that had always retained his composure. After centuries of battle and love, it all came down to those eyes. As blue as the Caribbean Sea, they no longer regarded him with kindness. Instead they were alive with the thrill of a fresh kill, and Magnus was the only thing on the menu.

Without intentionally meaning to hurt Alec, he pushed hard against his chest, flinging the boy across the alleyway. Alec skidded across the stones and smashed into a clutter of garbage cans wedged against the wall with a loud smack. Magnus's heart skipped a beat.

"You'll pay for that one," Alec growled, wiping away a trickle blood from the side of his mouth.

And he was on Magnus again, fierce blue eyes now clearly visible and strained. Blow after blow, Magnus ducked and lashed out, intending just to tire him, wear him down. But Alec would not relent. He openly charged the warlock, seraph blade gleaming under the lights like an avenging angel. Magnus had never seen him so alive, so carefree, and yet troubled all at the same time.

"Had enough?" shouted Magnus, jumping onto a windowsill as Alec slashed through the bottom of his coat.

He rather loved that coat. It was one of his favorites—the one that Will had given to him prior to leaving London. And that was enough for Magnus to forgo these silly games. Mess with his hair, his apartment, you could even screw with his books, but you start attacking a perfectly good coat and you were asking for trouble.

He dropped from the ledge and landed in the center of the alleyway, raising his arms as though he'd given up. But blue crackles of flame leaped from his outstretched fingers, rising up into the evening sky in a whirlwind of anger and fear. He wasn't so much afraid of Alec as he was afraid _for_ him. And for himself. If he continued down this path, he was no better than Sebastian.

Alec remained on target, and as Magnus slowly raised his head and locked eyes with him, he knew the game was about to end. His opponent's movements were fueled by rage, whereas Magnus had learned to control his emotions and was slowly easing back into that pattern. Alec was coming apart at the seams, fraying like a paper doll.

Magnus clapped only once; he knew it was more than enough. Bright blue light exploded from his joined hands, rocking the old walls of the alley and sending several bricks barreling down around them. The ground shook, vibrating just enough that Alec lost his footing and toppled completely into Magnus. His seraph blade skittered across the cluttered pavement until coming to rest in front of the Iblis demon's remains.

His touch was like hard velvet, soothing and yet abrasive. Alec smacked into Magnus with such a force that he couldn't tell whether or not the sensation of being so close to the boy was pleasing or frightening. But he wasted no time; there was only one chance.

With a quick flip of his body, Magnus rolled over and pinned Alec's wrists to his sides with couplets of fire that licked against his skin without penetrating his flesh.

"Let me go!" Alec shrieked.

"This magic can hold you indefinitely." He grabbed Alec's shirt collar and dragged him to his feet. The couplets stayed in place, creating a magnetic force field that restrained Alec, but allowed his body to be moved by the person who'd inflicted the spell. "You are out of control."

"You were the one that started this, not me. I was walking away!"

"Take back what you said, and I will let you leave." Anger, still present in his system, could only be quelled by a reversal of words. Alec's words.

"I won't take it back! I won't!" Tears formed in Alec's eyes. Magnus hoped he was wearing him down because he could not handle seeing Alec cry.

He summoned courage from inside of him, forcing his words out strong and clear. "If I ever meant anything to you, take your words back…now."

"I hate you, Magnus Bane," Alec snarled, struggling under his grip. Magnus flinched; the words cut straight through him. "And next time I see you…I _will_ end your life."

This was not Alec; it was like something else stood in his place warped with pure hatred. It was so unnerving that Magnus released his power and took a step back. He just couldn't fathom his beloved Alec spitting out such harsh words.

The Queen had been right…things changed.

Alec brushed past Magnus as he swiped the blade from the ground. He closed his eyes, feeling the impact of Alec's shoulder smack against his own. It was so cold, so distant, and full of anger, as if the boy was nothing but an empty shell. The shock of it burned the backs of his eyes. He had done this. It was his fault.

A clap brought him up short, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Jace fall from the rooftop.

"Hate to put an end to this little lover's spat, but we have things to do." His golden hair shimmered under the alley lights, but something was different about him as well. There was a light in Jace's eyes that made Magnus take a step back.

"Heavenly fire," Magnus whispered to himself. Neither Jace nor Alec took any notice.

"I was doing perfectly fine on my own," Alec snarled, pushing past Jace with halfhearted force.

"Yeah, I saw…you were doing _terrific_. You almost had him," Jace chuckled.

"I'm going home." Alec shot Jace a sour look and scaled a nearby drain pipe without so much as a goodbye to Magnus.

"What has happened to him?" Magnus asked as he tried to subdue his panting breaths. The sparks began to dim, returning his hands to their normal appearance.

"Oh, you know…the usual…tormented soul, lost love, vengeance. Typical teenage boy stuff." Jace leaned against the alley wall with a smirk, shaking his head as he surveyed the blood stained cobblestones. The occasional click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth grated on Magnus's nerves. "I've heard of breakups going bad before, but I think you two managed to take it to the next level. It's an awful mess out here. I feel bad for whoever has to clean it up."

"How long has he been this way?" Magnus brushed off his torn coat and ignored Jace's commentary. He was used to that by now.

"No hello? How ya doin'? Nice to see you Jace?" His lips parted into a coy smile.

"Nice to see you, Jace," replied Magnus, exasperated. The fight had rocked him to the core; he didn't have time for pleasantries.

"Much better." Jace pushed off the wall and strode towards him, eyes gleaming with a bronze sheen. "To answer your question, Alec has undergone a few…changes. But don't you worry, I've kept him from making any rash decisions. Well, for the most part."

"Rash decisions? You mean more than attacking demons at will and…" he trailed off, unable to actually admit to what almost happened here in the alley.

Jace's face went deathly still. "The only thing holding him back from begging to become a Silent Brother is me."

"Parabatai."

Jace nodded. "Could you imagine it?" He let out a low chuckle, and stepped to Magnus' side. "Anyway, it's not like you're all that interested, right? You two aren't together. Alec's moved on, and so have you. Nice to see you're not dead, though."

He felt dead. "I guess things really have changed," Magnus sighed.

"Well, that usually happens when a war breaks out. Or haven't you noticed what's going on around you?" Jace's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Magnus shrugged him off, the adrenaline from his fight with Alec still fresh in his mind. He didn't want to lash out at Jace in a moment of confusion. The Shadowhunter took a step back, surprise in his gleaming eyes. "Quite the contrary," said Magnus, finally making a move towards the street. "But I choose to keep my nose out of it. This is your war. Not mine."

"That's where you're wrong." His eyes narrowed—a look Magnus was very familiar with when it came to the son of Valentine. "How long do you think it will take Sebastian to kill off your kind if he gets through us? You don't really think he'll leave you alone, do you?"

If Jace only knew the truth. But Magnus could not afford to let the young man know of Sebastian's plan, or that he was a part of it. Not until the time was right. And even then, he wondered if he would be able to reveal the truth. If Alec really detested him that much, why bother? Anger grew in his belly like a feeding serpent, devouring Magnus whole.

"I have been alive for more years than I care to remember. I have seen Mundanes rise up against evil and your kind turn a blind eye to their pleas." Magnus halted just shy of the vacant street, turning on Jace with an icy glare. "Don't lecture me on the power of Sebastian, or the strength of your corrupt angel society. When all else has perished from this earth, I will live on. Where will _you_ be, Jace?"

"On a beach in the Caribbean, soaking up a few rays…I hope," he smirked back.

Magnus leaned in, closing the distance just enough to give his words a heftier weight. "You carry the fire of Heaven in your soul. I'm no fool, Jace Morgenstern. I see it shining in your eyes, and I can smell it in your blood. But like many precious things that are stolen, it's only a matter of time before its master comes calling. I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you."

"What do you know about Heavenly Fire?" Jace asked quietly, as though the mere topic unnerved him.

"I know it does not belong to you."

"Magnus, please, if you know something that could help me—"

"You are beyond my help." Rage burst into Magnus's already troubled thoughts. Once again, Jace Morgenstern was asking him for help. And he wasn't prepared to give it. "Leave me alone, Shadowhunter, or you will face a fate worse than your brother's wrath."

It was an idle threat—one that Magnus had no intentions on following through with. Sebastian's influence went well beyond the capabilities of his own.

"Someone has their corset on too tight," Jace teased, returning to the familiar snide and cocky boy that Magnus was used to. "I'll be seeing you again, Mr. Bane."

Jace tipped an invisible hat and then quickly darted around the corner, calling out for his _parabatai_. Little did he know, Magnus planned on seeing him far sooner than he realized.

* * *

**A/N: We will be hearing from Alec very soon, I promise! Thank you for continuing to read. **


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